Pet Owners, Before Writing That Check, Get A Reality Check

We were talking get-rich quick schemes, a good subject when mixed with strong drink.

My friend Two-Scoops suggested a franchise for algae pills for those in intestinal distress. Another guy just said the words "fish tacos." The schemes multiplied.

Raising chinchillas in the garage. Brokering marriages between young Asian women and retired postmen who keep cases of Viagra in the pantry. Special Tibetan herbs that look like hay for especially slow racehorses. Kidnapping Barney the dinosaur during pledge week.

Two-Scoops sighed.

"Too bad we're not veterinarians, like a guy I know," he said. "He's making a fortune testing for allergies. He's charging thousands of dollars, people are paying and it's legal."

You mean he tests the children to determine if they're allergic to dogs or wool or cheese?

"Not the kids, the dog. Say Fifi starts sneezing and coughing. He tests Fifi, then tells you to wear polyester clothes. He tells you if the dog is allergic to the kids. Then you can find a good home for your kids so the dog will feel better. He's rolling in dough."

I dismissed it as a wild Two-Scoops fantasy. But then I read the pet story in last Sunday's Tribune. You may have seen it.

The story was about how veterinarians are getting rich. Pet owners are eager to spend tens of thousands of dollars for surgery for dogs and cats. Pets are getting expensive kidney transplants and even chemotherapy, just so their owners can keep them around for a few months.

I love dogs, horses and other animals, but that's hard for me to understand. Have we lost our minds? Do we believe that pets are four-legged human beings? And have veterinarians replaced funeral home operators as devious grief merchants?

A suburban man was quoted in the story. His 2-year-old dog had a blood infection and the owner spent $11,000 for a cure.

"He's my son," the man was quoted as saying in reference to the dog. "Half my friends told me I was an idiot to spend that kind of money on an $850 dog. I said (to the doctors), No matter what it takes, you have to save my dog."

Gee, pal, I hate to tell you this and I truly don't want to make fun of you, but it's a dog. It is a German shepherd who licks itself in funny places because he can. It is not human, and it's not your son.

But the man innocently, and in his own way truthfully, expresses a modern American belief: that animals are human beings.

Isn't it the least bit strange that as a culture we are beginning to accept euthanasia for humans at the same time average Americans are putting their pets through chemotherapy and other extremely expensive treatments?

To be fair, a pet can fill an empty space in a life. We're emotional creatures too, and we transfer those emotions to animals. We invest our hearts in them. When they get sick, we want to cure them.

But there should be a limit. And the vets are cashing in, like the morticians who profit by selling tearful widows specially lined coffins that keep the worms out for a thousand years.

Some vets obviously don't tell people it's wrong to painfully prolong an animal's life just so you can pet them. Or what's worse, the people don't want to listen. I'm sure vets have their strange pet-lover stories, too, and I'd like to hear them. Here's one:

An editor at this paper moved into an apartment and left his dog with another family. They called to say the dog had a growth on its forehead and needed its teeth cleaned. The vet informed them the surgery would cost $300, including the anesthesia and teeth-cleaning.

Luckily, this editor asked them to see another vet for a second opinion, and that vet said the expensive surgery wasn't necessary. The growth would regenerate anyway.

So my colleague told them to get a common soup bone from the butcher shop--they cost around 29 cents--and have the dog clean its own teeth the old-fashion way.

I love animals, dogs in particular, and I'm ready to buy one for my family. I've trained dogs to hunt and raised them from pups. I've nursed them through sickness.

And I've had my heart broken by some, especially those I had to put down when they got too sick or old, because I didn't want them to live crippled up with pain and fear, or drugged into a stupor.

That's what you do when it's time. You put them down.

You don't painfully stretch out their life just so they can lick your hand. That's selfish.

A dog is a dog, and a cat isn't your cousin or your sister.

Let's treat them well, and love them, but let's also not forget an important distinction.